


Admission of Guilt

by highfunctioningsupersoldiersociopath



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Has Feelings, Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Saving People Hunting Things, The Impala - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 13:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16096928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highfunctioningsupersoldiersociopath/pseuds/highfunctioningsupersoldiersociopath
Summary: Emotions are troublesome, the rumble of Baby's engine helps Sam to sleep, and there is always a hunt that goes tits-up.





	Admission of Guilt

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me at half one in the morning. But please, enjoy. ^-^

Dean lifted his eyes from the road in front of him to the rear-view mirror where he could see y/n sat in the back seat, perfectly framed. She was still awake, the only occupant of the car asleep was Sam, who had drifted off about an hour ago and he would have thought she would do the same.

The only real light was that from the Impala’s headlights illuminating the road, but through the darkness, he was able to see that she was biting her lip again; a nervous habit that always meant there was something on her mind and she was working through it. He wondered whether it was the hunt, or maybe something else. There was always something else with her.

He wanted to tell her to stop - she would only make it worse, and the cold weather they were currently experiencing wasn’t making it any better, but he didn’t want to give away that he had been watching her, and him dwelling on how her chapped and bitten lips would feel beneath his would not make things any better.

They had gone from one hunt to the next with little time to rest in between. The hunt they had just completed had been smooth sailing right through to the end, which was a relief because it was the previous one where things had gone sideways and he had slipped up and revealed his heart. Not literally, obviously, although the victims of the werewolf pack’s dinner told a different story and she would have soon become breakfast had he and Sam not gotten there in time.

The stress of the situation had cornered his heart and separated it from his brain and forced him to blurt out those three devastating words. Perhaps it was the sight of her strung up like fresh meat, cuts and bruises (and probably several broken bones too) littering her partially naked body, or perhaps it was the thought of losing her that he couldn’t bear but once the wolves were all dead, and they had carefully lowered her to the ground and he had covered her up with his jacket, his emotions were running wild and his mouth had moved without his brain’s permission.

The silence that had followed was both shattering and awkward. Sam had been the one to break it by suggesting they get out of there. He had scooped the broken girl up in his arms like she weighed nothing. It didn’t matter if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings; he would be quite happy with a friendship, a comradeship, or anything than have her cut out of his life.

He looked back to the road before she caught him staring. He would drive through the night, not stopping until they reached Kansas again, where they could all crash in their own beds and let exhaustion take over.

It was as Dean was just getting ensconced under the sheets when there was a soft knock on his door and it opened before he got the chance to allow entry. Not that he minded - he knew it was y/n anyway. Her knock was always softer than Sam’s.

As she opened the door, her profile was silhouetted against the light from the corridor and he was momentarily stunned until she closed it behind her so the room was now lit only by the weak lamp Dean had on his bedside. She stopped at the foot of his bed and he just let her stand there for a moment, reluctant to be the first one to speak.

“Dean, I-” y/n wrung her hands together as she drew up the courage to ask him something and all he wanted to do was hold her tightly in his arms (although not too tightly because he didn’t want to aggravate her broken ribs) and never let go.

“Dean, would it be alright if I slept in here tonight? I don’t think I can be alone,” she confessed.

“Of course,” he readily agreed, glad that what he had said did nothing to deter her from wanting to be around him. “No one should have to suffer what you went through…” he trailed off, unsure about whether she was comfortable about talking about it but she just gave him a grateful smile, timid and small, but still there, as she climbed in next to him.

As they settled down next to each other, he heard her whisper, “I love you too.”

He couldn’t help but grin at the admission, turning off the light and letting the darkness wash over the heat rising in his cheeks. He carefully pulled her closer to his side pressed a chaste kiss to her lips (a miracle he found them first time in the dark), that were still chapped but somehow soft as hell and he could definitely get used to kissing them, before murmuring that she should get some sleep.


End file.
